On A Night Like This (Callaways #1)

else?"
    "No."
    "Do you have his contact information?"
    "I do."
    She sighed. "Great. Anything else you care to share? Like why you're here?"
    "One of the teachers was reported missing last night by her roommate. There was a trace amount of blood found in the garage of their apartment building. We didn't have enough to launch an investigation, but when I heard the call come in about the fire, I wondered if there was a connection."
    "Who's the teacher?"
    "Margaret Flannery."
    "Sister Margaret?" she asked in surprise. "She's missing?"
    "Sounds like you know her."
    "I went to school here. Sister Margaret was my fourth grade teacher, and she has taught at St. Andrews for forty years. I can't believe someone would try to hurt her. She's a sweet, wonderful person. What else can you tell me about her disappearance?"
    "Nothing. It's an ongoing investigation."
    "Come on, Harrison. We're working together, aren't we?"
    He gave her a short smile. "Are we? I'll remind you of that when I ask you for information on the fire scene."
    "I might be able to help you," she said, ignoring his comment. They could both be territorial when it came to information.
    "All right. What else can you tell me about Sister Margaret?"
    "Well, she's a popular teacher. She runs all the carnivals. She's a huge part of the school and church community."
    "What can you tell me about her roommate, Ruth Harbough?"
    "She's the school secretary," Emma replied. "The two women have been friends for years."
    "Just friends?" he queried.
    She frowned. "I don't know. I never thought about it. Does it matter?"
    "Just asking questions."
    She glanced around the schoolyard. Half the neighborhood was hovering on the street watching the flames. Arsonists loved to watch their handiwork. Was the perpetrator somewhere in the group?
    Harrison followed her gaze. "Quite a crowd," he muttered.
    "Yeah." She turned her head as her uncle called her name. "Time to get inside before all the evidence is destroyed."
    "The fire is still strong," Max said with a frown.
    "It's under control," she said, walking across the playground.
    He followed. "You're not short on guts, are you?"
    "It's part of the job. Fear only gets in the way."
    "Sometimes fear can save your life."
    "Or kill you," she returned. "Focus and fear don't go well together. I learned that a very long time ago."
    "What happened?" he asked.
    "Nothing important."
    "I doubt that."
    She shrugged. "Maybe someday I'll tell you."
    He smiled. "I'm going to hold you to that."
    His lazy grin made her skin tingle. She forced herself to look away. Max Harrison might be hot, but as far as she was concerned, he was off limits. They had to work together, and she did not mix business with personal relationships.
    As she headed toward the burning building, she tried to clear her mind of all distractions. Even though the fire was under control, she would never make the mistake of underestimating its power to leap back to life.

    * * *

    The monster grew larger and larger, taking up every inch of the sky, a raging creature of heat devouring everything in its path. Tall trees crackled with flames, then crashed to the ground one after the other, the smoke so thick it was impossible to see two feet ahead.
    A terrible fear ran through Aiden as the firestorm enveloped him. It was too big, too fast, too much. He'd waited too long to retreat.
    "Kyle," he shouted, seeing the hazy figure in front of him. "Come back!"
    The fury of the fire threw his words back in his face.
    What the hell was Kyle thinking? Why was he going up instead of down? Why wasn't he retreating? Had Kyle become disoriented by the smoke? It had to be the explanation. If he could just get to him, he could turn him around.
    But the ravaging fire had other plans. He jumped back as a flaming branch landed just inches from his body.
    Within seconds the forest around him was blazing with a new line of fire. In the light he could see Kyle twenty yards ahead. Kyle had stopped, pulled off his helmet, his head turned toward the sky as the fire grabbed hold of the sleeves of his coat.
    "Kyle," he screamed again.
    He ran toward his friend, jumping over rocks, dodging flames, moving so fast he was almost flying, and then he was completely airborne.
    He didn't know how long he flew before he hit the ground and then tumbled down the mountain.
    His last thought was that he was going to die. Mother Nature had finally beaten him.
    But when he woke up in the hospital hours later, he was alive, and Kyle